


Pre-Party Jitters

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: Starting Over [16]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 10:17:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6150331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the night of the annual Theirin Satinalia party.  Regan’s plans to go to the party with Alistair have … fallen through.  She’s gotten stuck on conference call for work.  Will she make it to the party?  Or will she use this as an excuse to not have to deal with Cailan and his plans?</p>
<p>Also, be prepared for a few familiar faces (and I think one who hasn’t shown up until now)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pre-Party Jitters

**Author's Note:**

> (also, I’m not sold on the title. There’s a very good chance that it will change)

“You all are real troopers. Why don’t we take a quick break, then try to finish this meeting up?  I’m sure at least _one_ of you has somewhere you’d much rather be.”

Regan clicked the “hold” button and all but threw her headset down as soon as Fergus gave the time for the break to end.  She grabbed her cell and dialed as she dashed toward the bathroom.  “RT, I need your help.  Door’s unlocked; how fast can you get down here?”

“What do you need? And how’d you know I was off?”

“I can hear you, remember? Meeting’s running long and I’m _supposed_ to be at that party, _with_ Alistair, in an hour …  and I have no idea how to _girl_ right now.”  She started stripping out of her clothes as fast as she could while still holding the phone

“Give me ten.”

“Great.  See you then.”  She made one more call and sent a text to let both Cailan and Alistair know she’d be late, then tossed the phone on top of the small pile of clothes and started the shower.  It wasn’t going to be as thorough as she liked, but she’d be clean at least.  She was really going to have to have a word with Fergus about his meetings.  

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_You have … one … new message_

_*beep*_

_“Um … hi; this is … um, Miss Cousland?  I … just wanted to let Mr. Theirin … er, Cailan … know that a meeting at work is running long and I will be late.”_

Cailan allowed himself a small smile as the message came to an end.  She sounded excited.  Of _course_ she was excited.  Who wouldn’t be excited to be invited to the biggest Satinalia party in Ferelden?  People schemed for _months_ to try and score invites to the Theirin’s annual bash, especially once he took over hosting them. There would be plenty of pretty people for him to chat with until she arrived, and he would even play nice with Anora.  He straightened his tie, pulled on his crisp royal blue jacket, and made his way out into the hall, turning on that thousand-watt smile as he greeted the first guests to arrive.

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“Seriously, RC; I’ve _never_ seen you this worried about what to wear to something.”  Regan Trevelyan busied herself putting the finishing touches on her friend’s hair, making sure it had just the _right_ amount of curl in the right places, and was pulled back just enough on the sides to not hide her face.  A few wisps were strategically left loose around her eyes, drawing attention to the bright green orbs currently darting around nervously.  

“I _know_.”  Regan Cousland sighed, barely resisting the urge to dig her fingers into her hair or run them down her face.  She didn’t want to ruin her friend’s hard work … or make herself even _later_.  She’d thought about asking Alistair to be late with her, but … a part of her knew that if he _didn’t_ go ahead, there was a very good chance that they’d never get there.  “It’s just … I want to make a good impression tonight.”

“On who?”  Trevelyan pursed her lips and looked over the almost finished product.  The clothes were certainly not the norm for her friend, but they fit well, and the boots she had chosen to wear actually worked with the rest.  “Cullen will be down in just a minute to drive you.  I think we just need a little jewelry, and then you’re done.  What do you think, Jasper?”  

The mabari gave a positive woof and wagged his rear end happily.  He rose up, draped his paws over her shoulders … somehow avoiding catching the fabric on his claws and smiled.

“Jasper, if you mess up her face, I will never forgive you.”

The mabari looked over at Trevelyan and she could swear he just … smiled mischievously.  The massive head turned back to look at Cousland and before anyone could do anything further, he leaned in, stuck the tiniest bit of tongue out, and flicked it against her nose.  Then, he dropped back to the floor, again without snagging his claws on her shirt, and grinned up at her.

Trevelyan didn’t bother trying _not_ to laugh.  She couldn’t quite figure out if the hound actually knew what was going on or how he could know to be _so_ careful, but she went with it.  “Glad to see you agree.”

Cousland smiled nervously as she fastened the necklace Alistair had given her around her throat. She flipped open the small box on her dresser.  It seemed only fitting to put on the gift he’d given her the previous week … plus, she really _did_ like them.  Without looking in the mirror, she slid the post of one earring through the hole in her ear, then the other.  A final glance in the mirror showed a girl who was desperately trying to _not_ fidget like a child.  She looked … almost familiar, but not quite. Would anyone actually recognize her?

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_Hey, hon.  Fergus scheduled a meeting for today…_

_and it’s taking FOREVER._

_I’m gonna be late._

_Go ahead & go without me. _

_I’ll be there as soon as I can._

_Love you. <3_

Alistair read her message for what felt like the hundredth time.  A small knot had formed in his stomach when the message had arrived, and now it was all he could do not to pace nervously.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t coming.  That he had done something … somehow … to convince her _not_ to show up.  

“I thought Cailan said you were bringing someone?”  Anora slipped up beside him, casually sipping from a glass of wine.  Her hair was pulled into an ornate series of knots and braids with what looked to be gems woven in, and the deep blue gown she wore made his simple blazer and slacks look almost slovenly.  “Is she out there in the sea of people who only pretend to like Cailan?  I don’t see anyone matching the … description my husband came up with.”

“She’s running late.” He sighed softly and tucked his phone back into his pocket.  His eyes scanned the room … again; almost an hour late, now.  “She got stuck in a late meeting, but said she’d be here as soon as she could after.”  Maker, why wouldn’t that stupid lump in his stomach go away?  Anora’s comforting smile didn’t help, though he appreciated the attempt.  Wait … what had she said?  Cailan gave her a _description_?  

“Tell me about her?” Anora rested her hand on his shoulder, drawing her attention back to her.  “My husband seemed to think she must be a rather … well, a rather plain or at best, average, girl, if you haven’t brought her ‘round to meet the family yet.” She took another sip of wine, nursing her drink to ensure the one glass would last her most of the evening.  She was well aware that Cailan would require … sober attention as the night progressed.  “He seems to think you might be … slightly embarrassed by her … or afraid she would fall short in comparison to _other_ members of the family?”

Alistair’s eyes went wide. Cailan had said _that_?  He’d _never_ said that she was average!  Maker’s breath; he’d never given Cailan one _hint_ of a description of her … because he couldn’t find the words to adequately describe her the way she deserved.  Not because she was just … _average_.  “Embarrassed by _her_?  Hardly.”  He rubbed at his eyes, fighting the urge to go and smack his brother upside the head.

She smiled, patting his shoulder gently.  “So tell me about her then?  What’s she like?”

He cast a dark look in his brother’s direction before turning back to his sister-in-law. “Andraste’s mercy, Anora … she’s … she’s _smart_ , and fun … we like a lot of the same things, I feel like I can be myself around her and, I mean … well, she’s obviously got this amazing work ethic.”  Wait … why had he said _that_? Who cared about her work ethic?

“Is she pretty?”

A dreamy smile broke through the scowl and stamped the knot into the smallest part of his gut … almost removed it, really.  “More than pretty; she’s _beautiful_.  She’s got these eyes that … just ….”  His fingers made this … bursting motion before he ran them through his hair, coming to a stop at the back of his head.  “And this hair … it’s just … _wow_.  And her _smile_ ….  Maker, I can’t even begin to ….”  He felt his cheeks warm and a flush creep up the back of his neck as he tried describing the smile that made him go weak in the knees.  He all but swooned, accidentally bumping into a rather ugly vase on the table next to him, knocking it to the floor.  “Oops.”

Only a small chunk appeared to break off, though a series of cracks through the ceramic were clearly visible.  “Don’t worry,” Anora whispered, bending down to pick up the mostly in tact object. “I’ve always hated this thing; it was a gift from Rendon Howe to father, years ago, and he hated it so much he passed it on to me.”  She motioned for him to follow.  “Tell me more about her while I dispose of this monstrosity?”

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“We’re almost there.” Cullen glanced at the GPS and figured they had about five more miles to go before they reached the party.  He didn’t bother hiding the faint chuckle that escaped when he looked over at the woman in his passenger seat.  She looked almost like she needed one of those air-sick bags from the plane.  “You doing OK?”

Regan Cousland nodded and sucked her lower lip between her teeth, glad one bit of makeup she never needed was lipstick.  Any trace of it would have been gone by now with as often as she was chewing on her lips. She tried to swallow her nerves. It was _just_ a party.  She kept trying to tell herself that.  But she didn’t really believe herself.  “I … yes?”

He pulled over.  He could tell she was nervous … knew _Alistair_ would be a right mess until she got there, too. What he didn’t know was _why_ she was nervous.  It wasn’t like this was her first date with Alistair.  “You don’t sound so sure.  What’s wrong?”

“I just ….”  Her hands waved about, with no real purpose as she floundered for some explanation for her nerves.  She had none.  “I’m nervous and I don’t know why.  Not exactly, anyway.”  Maker’s ass, why couldn’t she have brought Jasper?  This is just the sort of situation she had him for.  He was there to calm her, help ground her when those fears got too much.  Andraste’s balls, why had she left him at home?

“I’d say don’t be, but I know that doesn’t help.”  He shifted so he could actually look at her.  He wanted to give her some sort of comfort, but there was that fine line between friend and creep that he was still figuring out with her.  “I know I was terrified the first family dinner I attended with Regan.  I mean … um, my Regan … RT?”  It still felt a little odd having to use a nickname for his own wife.  It had to have been even harder for the two of them growing up.  “Meeting someone’s family … someone you care about … is always a bit frightening.  You worry that they won’t like you, that you’ll do something to embarrass yourself or someone else.  I know I was certain her parents would think I wasn’t good enough for her.”  He chuckled softly, shaking his head.  “I was right about that part.  But really, Alistair loves you.  Anything his family says won’t change that.”

“Not helping, Cullen.” She managed a faint laugh before her stomach started knotting again.  “I … Alistair told me what Cailan is planning.  He said Cailan doesn’t know that I’m … me.”  She pursed her lips and shook her head.  She knew as soon as the words passed her lips that they were confusing. “I mean, he said that Cailan has no idea that the _Miss Cousland_ he invited is the same _Regan_ that Alistair is dating.”

Cullen laughed and just rubbed his eyes before putting the car in drive again.  “Honestly, I doubt Cailan would care.  The one time I met him, he seemed a bit … self-centered.”  He was glad Alistair had at least _told_ her what Cailan wanted to do.  That wouldn’t have been a pleasant surprise for anyone.  “Do you … know what you’re going to do?  Or say?”

“Say?  No.”  She slipped her hands into her coat pockets as Cullen turned up the long driveway in front of the Theirin … house.  Well, house wasn’t quite what she’d call the place.  It was certainly larger than where she’d grown up, but not as extravagant as some of the places she’d seen the couple times her father had taken her with him to Orlais.  “But I know what I’m going to do.”  She traced her fingers along a small package in her pocket, smiling faintly.  

 “We’re here.”  Cullen pulled to a stop at the top of the drive. He could see cars parked all along the edge, and was fairly certain they’d passed Alistair’s about half a mile back.  “There are … a lot of cars.”  Certainly more people than he would have expected for a _family_ party, especially since the way Alistair always talked, their family wasn’t _that_ large.  “You’ll be fine.  Tell Alistair we say hello?”


End file.
